


A Study in Possession

by Farasha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Crying, Cultural Differences, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Facials, Fluff, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Possessive Behavior, Press and Tabloids, Prostate Milking, Sex Toys, Skype, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 01:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11613285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/pseuds/Farasha
Summary: NIKIFOROV DRESSES LEFT: KATSUKI FATALE AND HIS SEDUCTION GAMESTMZ catches a dick outline at the kiss & cry in Beijing, after Yuuri has skated Eros. Yuuri helps Victor with his self-control problem.Or, Victor learns just how possessive Yuuri is of their intimacy.





	A Study in Possession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maydei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydei/gifts).



> A very happy belated birthday to Luc. Please enjoy this filthy porn that, as always, got away from me.

Nights in Beijing were hardly silent, but their hotel room was high enough that most of the noise didn't filter through. Years of traveling for competitions made it easy to sleep through unfamiliar noises, especially with Yuuri warm against his side. Familiar noises were a different story, especially sounds he'd trained his body to wake up to over the years.

Victor ignored the first beep of his phone. It was the dead of night, it had barely pulled him out of sleep, and if it was an emergency, someone would call him.

The phone beeped again, then again, then chimed and buzzed obnoxiously loud on the nightstand. Yuuri made an irritated noise and sat up. Victor moved quick, rolling out of bed and snatching it off the dresser before Yuuri could grab it and hurl it across the room. Yuuri was a heavy sleeper and couldn't be trusted to be reasonable when he was barely awake. With the source of the noise removed, Yuuri's head hit the pillow again.

Mila had sent him a series of texts. It took a minute for Victor to blink and squint at the screen, still trying to struggle out of sleep.

> 2:16 AM  
>  Mila said:  
>  vitya your dick is on tmz
> 
> 2:19 AM  
>  Mila said:  
>  wake up it's going viral
> 
> 2:24 AM  
>  Mila said:  
>  yakov is going to be so mad
> 
> 2:26 AM  
>  Mila said:  
>  too bad you don't do women that thing is impressive

As he was reading, his phone was buzzing in his hand, Twitter and Instagram notifications ticking up by the second. He could feel a headache creeping up the back of his neck, pinching behind his eyes. Against his better judgment, he opened Twitter. If one of the extremely ill-advised sex tapes from his youth had leaked, he needed to play damage control.

Victor wasn't sure whether he was relieved or not when he finally found the source of the explosion currently sending his fingers numb. It was a series of pictures of him from the boards during Yuuri's skate yesterday, and the kiss & cry after. It would have been perfectly innocuous if whoever it was hadn't painstakingly drawn a bright red outline around the unmistakable shape of his hard-on in his slacks.

**NIKIFOROV DRESSES LEFT: KATSUKI FATALE AND HIS SEDUCTION GAMES**

Victor groaned, pressing the edge of his phone against his forehead. The article could hardly be called that, being little more than salacious one-liners after every image, mostly about Yuuri. The comments were worse, a mix of lewd gifs and capslock screaming about how Yuuri clearly didn't deserve such magnificence. Victor closed the article and muted his notifications before he started replying.

This was his fault. Yuuri always skated beautifully, but when his switch flipped and he really felt his Eros performance on the ice, he was devastating. Victor knew what Yuuri did to him when he skated like that, should have remembered HD cameras, how much detail they picked up, and how obvious it was when he got hard. He thought he'd been stealthy enough, standing as close to the boards as he could get and keeping his hands in his lap in the kiss & cry, but obviously not.

> 2:46 AM  
>  You said:  
>  Too early
> 
> 2:47 AM  
>  You said:  
>  How soon before it becomes a meme
> 
> 2:52 AM  
>  Mila said:  
>  too late it already is it's everywhere the world is obsessed with your dick

Victor groaned, grinding the heels of his hands into his closed eyes. This was the last thing Yuuri needed. He had been hard enough to get to sleep, and he hadn't taken the first mild media storm around Victor's drunken antics well.

He slid back into bed and turned his phone off, double checking the alarm clock to be sure they would wake up on time.

Yuuri was up before the alarm, already awake and in the shower by the time Victor managed to fumble it off. He felt like he hadn't gotten any sleep at all, an unwelcome twisting feeling in his gut when he turned his phone back on.

His social media accounts were still flooded with comments, which Victor knew not to read. It never went well and wasn't good for his stress levels, and he had a feeling he would need to be steady for Yuuri today. This year's Cup of China had scheduled the short and free program days back to back, something that always irritated Victor as a competitor but might end up being an advantage. Yuuri would be too busy competing to worry about social media.

Victor rolled out of bed and scrubbed his hands through his hair, then shed his clothes to go join Yuuri in the shower. Even away from Hasetsu, bathing together was routine, though they had to squeeze in tight in the narrow hotel shower.

"Morning Yuuri," Victor said, daring to slide his hand over the small of Yuuri's back as he stepped into the shower.

"Mm," Yuuri said, sounding distracted. His fingers moved slowly over his scalp, shampoo half washed out in the spray. Victor caught the distant look in his eyes and bit his lip to keep from sighing. Yuuri was lost in his own head already, and they hadn't even had tea yet. This was bad.

"Yuuri, turn around," Victor said, as he'd done at the boards yesterday. Yuuri blinked vaguely at him and turned, letting Victor steer him into the spray and push his hands out of the way, washing Yuuri's hair gently.

"You're going to do great today," he said, cupping his hands to keep shampoo out of Yuuri's eyes. "Your skate yesterday was fantastic. Yuri on Ice plays to your strengths, you have nothing to worry about."

"Mm." Yuuri's shoulders pulled tight with tension. It was the opposite of what Victor was going for.

"Did you wake up like this? It's no good. If you're tense like this you'll pull something in stretches." Victor started to dig his thumbs into Yuuri's shoulders.

"I have to get dressed," Yuuri said abruptly, grabbing the towel and stepping out of the shower. Victor let his emptied hands fall to his sides, and the twisting feeling in his stomach got worse. He hadn't been nervous before a competition in a long time, but Yuuri was rubbing off on him.

"Victor!" Yuuri shouted from the bedroom, his voice scandalized and a little shrill, and Victor sprinted from the bathroom, not even bothering with a towel. Yuuri was holding his phone, pale, his eyebrows drawn tight. "Victor, why is Phichit messaging me 'congratulations' with a lot of eggplant emojis?"

Victor's tongue went still in his mouth for a moment too long, and Yuuri frowned, thumbs tapping rapidly against his phone screen.

"Yuuri don't-"

" _Victor_ ," Yuuri said, strangled. "What did- why would-" scarlet was creeping up his face, and his eyes were going wide in that slightly hunted way he got when he felt like people were laughing at him. "What is this?!"

"That is Americans and their obsession with sex," Victor said dryly. "Yuuri, don't worry about it. The media does things like this all the time. It'll blow over."

"I have so many notifications it won't show me a number! Victor!"

"That's it," Victor said, crossing the room and plucking Yuuri's phone out of his hand. "As your coach, you should stay off your phone until after the free skate."

Yuuri was still pale as he watched Victor drop his phone into one of the nightstand drawers. Victor was naked and dripping all over the floor, and the cold hotel room air made him shiver. He turned to go back to the bathroom and was surprised by Yuuri's hand darting out to grab him by the wrist. Yuuri pulled, turning him, and Victor ended up with his back against the wall, Yuuri's hands on either side of his head, and Yuuri looking him over in a way that chased the cold from Victor's skin.

"Nobody else should be looking at that," Yuuri said fiercely. His eyes pinned Victor to the wall, and he left no doubt as to what he was talking about when he brought one hand to Victor's crotch and squeezed.

"Yuuri!" Victor gasped. It was right on the edge of hurting, intense and forward and unlike things they'd done together previously. It surprised him. He loved surprises.

"I'm the one who took you away from the world," Yuuri said. "I'm the only one who should get to see you hard. How embarrassing, Victor. Can't you control yourself?"

"Yuuri," Victor moaned, pushing into Yuuri's hand. He'd seen flashes of this before, little hints that something like it lay beneath Yuuri's skin, but this... this was electrifying.

Yuuri clicked his tongue and let Victor go. "We'll be late for warm-ups."

Victor had to gasp for air when Yuuri pulled his hand away and went to get dressed. His skin tingled in the wake of Yuuri's touch, feverish and alive.

It left them both on edge for the rest of the day, though for different reasons. Yuuri seemed to quickly forget about Victor's dick sweeping the internet, and instead started to jitter himself into pieces over the competition. Victor, set off-balance by finally having to field some of the damage, handled it clumsily. He hadn't expected to make Yuuri cry in the parking garage, but his attention was split. He'd been spending all day trying to figure out how to respond to what had happened without plastering their still-new relationship all over the tabloids.

All of those thoughts flew out of his head when Yuuri did the quad flip - _his_ quad flip - on the ice. All he could see was Yuuri. All he could feel was a surge of bright emotion that couldn't be contained in his skin. All he could do was launch himself at Yuuri, heart pounding in his chest, a thrill washing from his scalp to his toes at the touch of Yuuri's lips on his.

Later, when they were curled up together on the hotel bed, their clothes scattered across the floor, Yuuri turned to him with a smile.

"You're not very good at controlling yourself," he said, soft and amused.

"Not when it comes to you," Victor said, tucking some of Yuuri's hair behind his ears.

Yuuri took a deep breath, a serious look coming over his face. "Victor, when we go back to Hasetsu, you have to..." Yuuri trailed off, one of his hands curling in the pillow, and swallowed nervously. "You can't do that sort of thing in public. It's embarrassing."

It wasn't what Victor expected, and at first, it hurt. He remembered Yuuri mocking him from this morning - how embarrassing, Victor, can't you control yourself? - and suddenly the words sounded different in his ears. He sat up slowly, the warm fuzz of tenderness fading from his chest. "Embarrassing."

Yuuri sat up abruptly beside him, seeming to realize how that had sounded. "I'm not embarrassed of you! It's only that... Victor, those things are private. They're for us, they're not for everyone else."

"Are you jealous?" Victor tried to put some of his usual tease in his voice.

"No!" Yuuri said, too quickly. He blushed. "Well, maybe. But it's not because I'm jealous, it's just because it really isn't done. It's probably different in Russia, but in Japan... haven't you ever noticed you never see my parents hug or touch like you do?"

Victor feels the little spark of amusement that had flared up at Yuuri's blush sink like a stone in his stomach. "I can't even hug you?"

Yuuri looked at a loss, reaching out for Victor's hand. "I don't want to make you feel like you've done something wrong. I loved today. I just... on national television? In front of all those people? And after last night, too."

"You mean the dick thing?" Victor asked, voice dry. Yuuri flushed bright red again, his fingers tightening on Yuuri's hand.

"I'm sorry about this morning. That was too much of me." Yuuri's hair, clean of gel after a shower but mussed and damp after their roll in the sheets, fell into his face.

"Yuuri." Victor tugged at Yuuri's wrist, pulling him closer so he could reach out and tip Yuuri's chin up with gentle fingertips. "I like it when you get jealous over me."

Yuuri darted a disbelieving look up at him. "I just... I can't stop thinking about going back home and being in the same rink with the triplets. They're otaku, they've probably already seen every article."

Victor felt himself go pale. "They're _six_. That's too young to be thinking about hard-ons!"

"You see my point!" Yuuri said. "They'll have questions! Invasive questions! If I just knew what it was that had you so, um. So turned on-"

Victor interrupted him with a laugh, because how could Yuuri not know?

"It was you, Yuuri. Of course it was you. Your Eros was amazing yesterday. You didn't hold anything back. I love that."

Yuuri's words died in his throat, his lips parting, something like wonder on his face. It made Victor's chest hurt when he looked like that, like Victor was some kind of vision he couldn't quite believe.

Then he seemed to recover. "Well... I have to skate it for the rest of the season, and we can't have paparazzi following you around trying to get a picture of your pants while I'm on the ice."

Victor laughed, falling back against the pillows, his sides shaking with it. He'd been in the public eye long enough that he could picture it happening, was the sad thing. Yuuri was right. He had to somehow get ahold of himself, at least enough to not embarrass them both in public.

"You don't want to be known as the one that tamed Victor Nikiforov?" he asked, between gasps for air.

His wrists were in Yuuri's grasp within the next breath, Yuuri's leg swung over his hips, Yuuri's weight settled on top of him. Victor's laughter died in his throat and he blinked up at Yuuri, his hair falling in his face, intense and determined. Victor, still a student of Yuuri's expressions, couldn't decide whether it was this or Yuuri's smile that he liked best.

"I _am_ the one that tamed Victor Nikiforov," he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. "It's the same as all the rest. It's not for other people to see."

"You are jealous," Victor said. He couldn't catch his breath, pinned under Yuuri like this, Yuuri's face inches from his own but too far away to kiss.

"It's different," Yuuri insisted. "I'm not worried about anyone taking you away from me. They just can't look at what's mine like they might want to take it."

"Yuuri," Victor said, straining his neck against the grip Yuuri had on him, angling his lips for a kiss. "You're not jealous, you're possessive."

Yuuri swallowed, a breath away from Victor's face. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," Victor murmured. "I want you to fuck me with your medal on."

Yuuri seized his mouth in a kiss that left Victor's lips feeling tender and bruised.

The next day saw him shifting uncomfortably in his seat on the plane, conscious of the weight of Yuuri's heated glance every time Victor fidgeted. Yuuri watched him from under his dark lashes and chewed on the corner of his lip.

Victor had missed Japan in a different way than he missed Russia. In St. Petersburg he knew the streets, knew where to get the best food after a late practice and when to time his morning bike ride along the bridge to catch sunrise on the water. In Hasetsu, he knew the people. Yuuri's parents and his sister made a space for Victor in their home as easily as if he'd always belonged there. Yuuko and Takeshi had become friends of his as they were friends of Yuuri's. Minako still looked at him sometimes with suspicion, a look Victor thought would be the same as Yakov's face if Yuuri had been the one to crash into Victor's home life.

Yuuri's words in the hotel room still weighed on his mind. He watched Yuuri's parents, now, remembering what he'd said. He saw how Toshiya looked around to see if anyone's eyes were on him before giving Hiroko a light peck on the cheek, how Hiroko's round face flushed at the touch of his lips. He wondered how long he'd been embarrassing Yuuri in front of his family, and Yuuri hadn't said anything at all.

It made Victor feel bad about how he'd reacted in the hotel room, like Yuuri thought of him as a dirty secret to be swept under the rug. It wasn't anything like that. It was Yuuri trying to tell Victor how much of a shameless foreigner he'd been, and asking Victor to be less... well, just less. Victor knew he was a strong personality, both naturally and as a carefuly cultivated persona for the press. Yuuri had gone along with it longer than most people probably would have, being shoved out of their comfort zone so blatantly and thoroughly. It explained why it had taken him weeks to respond to Victor's near-constant invitations to his bed, why he'd turned an incandescent shade of pink whenever Victor flirted. It wasn't that Yuuri didn't want him. It's that Yuuri didn't want _everyone else_ to see how much he wanted.

So Victor tried. He kept his hands to himself, unless they were sitting around the kotatsu and Victor could safely rest his hand on Yuuri's thigh under the table. He contained himself to enthusiastic hugs instead of enthusiastic kisses, unless they were behind Yuuri's closed bedroom door.

As they usually did, the internet lost interest in the gossip about Victor's intimate life as soon as there was no more news to be had. Paparazzi were less invasive in Japan, though Victor did have to contend with giggling teenagers at the rink snapping clandestine shots on their cell phones. He didn't give them anything to report; with Yuuri's request for restraint still at the front of his mind, Victor was a consummate professional during practice.

In private, something else had changed. Yuuri had never been what Victor expected in bed; based on how thoroughly and immediately he'd shied away from all intention, Victor had assumed he would be just as tremulous and unsure when it came to sex. He had rapidly learned this was not the case - Yuuri may have lacked hands-on experience, but he'd had a decade at least to imagine all the things he wanted to do to Victor, and vice versa. Victor had never had a bed partner so single-mindedly focused on making him come apart in every way possible, and after China, after Victor's admission that he liked Yuuri's possessiveness and forceful side, it had gotten even better than Victor had ever imagined.

Rostelecom was right around the corner before they knew it, and Yuuri seemed to become more anxious as the date drew closer. Victor didn't know what he was worried about. His programs were as close to flawless as they could be, provided Yuuri didn't have an attack of nerves. It wasn't until a couple days before they left for Russia that he figured out what had been bugging him, in the form of a nondescript cardboard box, cradled in Yuuri's lap as he sat on Victor's bed with a blush splashed across his cheeks.

"I got you a surprise," Yuuri said, his voice quiet and a little unsure.

"I love surprises!" Victor slid the door shut behind him, sensing that this was the kind of surprise you gave someone in private. Anticipation crawled along his nerves as he sat beside Yuuri on the bed.

"I don't know if you'll want it," Yuuri said. "If you don't, I guess I'll have to see if they take returns."

"What is it?" Victor asked, lacing his hands together in his lap to keep from grabbing the box and tearing it open so he could see for himself.

Yuuri's blush deepened as he picked one corner of the packing tape up and peeled it off, accompanied by the sound of tearing cardboard. He took a deep breath and opened the box, pushing aside packing paper and tilting it toward Victor so he could see the contents.

It took Victor a moment to realize what he was seeing. Metal, curved, in the unmistakable shape of a flaccid cock. His lips parted, his pulse coming faster under his skin. He reached out, brushing his fingers over the plastic packaging. "Is that...?"

"You don't have to," Yuuri repeated. "It was silly. I ordered it right after we got back from Beijing, when the story was still all over the tabloids, but it's died down now. You don't-"

Victor laid his fingers over Yuuri's lips, stopping him from talking himself into a corner. Arousal settled in his stomach like a shot of strong liquor. He felt a little lightheaded, all the blood suddenly rushing south.

"Well, there's no way you could get it on me right now," he said dryly, looking down at the crotch of his pants. "Would you... would you want me to wear it at competition?"

Yuuri's hands tightened around the box containing the cock cage, his eyes bright and his lips parted. "Yes. I know how you feel about me skating Eros. This should... this should keep anyone from seeing something that's mine."

Victor thought he could be forgiven for the loud moan that broke out of his throat, even though he'd been trying to be quieter lately. Yuuri clapped his hand over Victor's mouth, bearing him down onto the mattress.

"You like it," he breathed, his eyes tracking over Victor's face. Victor couldn't speak, but he could grab Yuuri's other hand and press it down against the front of his pants, showing him exactly how much he liked it with an affirmative, muffled groan.

Yuuri wasn't the only one spending the days until Rostelecom fidgeting in anticipation, after that. They didn't use the cage at home; Yuuri was adamant about it being there to help Victor control himself during competitions, and Victor got the sense that he was still nervous about exerting too much control. Eagerness made Victor handsy again, and he caught himself cuddling Yuuri close in the onsen and stealing kisses when people's backs were turned at the rink.

Moscow was no different than the last dozen times Victor had competed there, but it felt different from the moment Victor walked into the hotel. He felt Yuuri's eyes on him as he was swarmed with reporters, a heavy gaze that turned him on as effectively as a touch. He spotted poor Yura across the lobby and sicced them on him, making a quick escape with Yuuri before they could start the entire scandal up again.

Yuuri took one look at the flush on his cheeks and started digging through his suitcase. "Already?" he asked, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"All I could think of was you watching me," Victor admitted, perching on the edge of the hotel bed. His leg jiggled as Yuuri hunted around the room for something to cut the plastic packaging off with. He was getting hard, and he didn't know how that was going to work, but he had faith that Yuuri would figure something out.

"You're the one who should be watching me," Yuuri said. He finally got the package open and pulled the cage free. It looked small in Yuuri's palm, and Victor had a flash of nerves - what if it didn't fit? Maybe they should have tried it while they were still in Hasetsu, so they could get a new one if it didn't.

Yuuri sinking to his knees between Victor's legs didn't do anything but make him harder, tenting his pants obscenely. Yuuri leaned in, kissing the fabric of his slacks, and set the cage on the bed beside Victor as he undid the button and drew the zipper down.

"Like now," he said, conversationally like he wasn't driving Victor crazy with the cool touch of his hand on Victor's cock. "Don't take your eyes off me."

Victor wouldn't have been able to if he tried, wide eyes fixed on Yuuri as he swallowed Victor down like it was nothing, his nose pressed against Victor's neatly trimmed pubic hair and his throat constricting around the head of Victor's cock. Victor bit down on the meat of his hand, so used to keeping quiet in Hasetsu. Yuuri's dark lashes fanned out over his cheeks, his eyes sliding closed as he started to draw back and suck Victor in again, a relentless rhythm that pulled Victor's orgasm from him in minutes.

Yuuri didn't let up when Victor came, working his tongue over Victor's softening cock until he was shaking, his teeth digging into his hand, fingers twisted in Yuuri's hair. Then, just as Victor thought he might cry from _too much_ , Yuuri reached for the cage.

Yuuri had to coax him into standing, guiding Victor's hands to his shoulders so he could fit the cage properly around Victor while he was still soft. Victor's bit his lip hard, his face screwing up at the contrasting sensations of Yuuri's warm fingers and the hard metal of the cage against his cock. Yuuri's hands were gentle, but he couldn't help but flinch, he was so sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"Hold still," Yuuri chided softly, his eyes rapt on the cage. He was excruciatingly, ticklishly gentle pulling Victor's balls through the ring at the base, caressing the tender skin before tucking Victor's cock through as well. The other half of the cage, a series of rings set in a curve, fitted over his limp cock. The cage clicked shut with a sound of finality, and Yuuri slipped a tiny gold padlock through the post a the top, locking the whole thing together.

"Is it too tight?" Yuuri asked, looking up at him. He played his thumb over the soft head of Victor's cock, his expression guileless but his eyes sparking with mischief.

"It's fine," Victor said, his voice emerging as a dry croak. Yuuri took his hands away and stood, and Victor stared down the length of his body at the curved piece of metal caging his cock away.

"Get dressed and let's check if you can see it through your suit pants," Yuuri said.

It wasn't an unreasonable request, but it was hard to follow from the first step Victor took to steady himself. The cage was cold and heavy and _present_ , impossible to ignore, making him hyper-aware of his cock and of every tug on his balls. He zipped up his fly, buttoned his pants with shaky hands, and looked up at Yuuri.

Yuuri stepped into his space, the warmth of his body pulling Victor like a magnet. One hand went into Victors hair, stroking it gently, and the other settled dangerously low on the small of his back. Victor swayed in his hands. All of his nerves were centered on his cock, twitching in its confines. The hand on the small of his back went lower, squeezing a handful of his ass as Yuuri kissed him with the taste of Victor's come still lingering on his tongue.

Victor's hips jerked. He felt the constriction of the cock cage like a vise, squeezing his dick as it tried to harden. It made him whimper into Yuuri's mouth and it made his balls start to feel pinched, but when Yuuri pulled away from him and looked down, they couldn't see anything at all. There was no evidence that Victor was aching for Yuuri.

"Perfect," Yuuri said, and Victor whimpered at that too. Yuuri looked up at his face, smoothing his hair back. "Now you just need to take some deep breaths so you aren't so worked up. Maybe you should sleep in it, to get used to it?"

Victor had to gasp for air to steady his breathing. All he could think about was his cock, and how much he wanted to get hard but couldn't. He licked his lips, trying to taste Yuuri still, and his gaze jumped from the flat front of his own pants to Yuuri, where he was most definitiely, obviously hard.

"Do you want-"

"I should save the energy for competition, shouldn't I?" Yuuri asked, a truly evil smirk pulling at his mouth.

"Yuuri," Victor whined, and couldn't be ashamed of the way it sounded. He wanted so badly.

"I think I like this more than I thought I would," Yuuri said, pulling away from Victor and walking to the bathroom. Victor heard him unzip their toiletry bag and groaned - Yuuri had abandoned him to get ready for bed.

"Yuuri, please."

"You'll just have to wait!" Yuuri called from the bathroom, over the sound of running water. "It's better this way! No more embarrassing headlines!"

Victor flopped backward on the bed, wincing a little at the weight of the cage between his legs. He wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about it. Was Yuuri going to take it off after the short program, or would he have to wear it until they got back to Hasetsu? Victor fidgeted against the blankets, his breath speeding up again. A telltale pinch from his crotch told him that he was trying to get hard again. It only made him more aroused, to know that Yuuri had the key to the cage and he _couldn't_ get hard until Yuuri let him out. Because Yuuri wanted to be the only person who saw Victor like that.

He shivered. Getting to sleep was going to be a problem.

The cage was impossible to ignore when they stripped down to their underwear for bed. Yuuri's eyes lingered on it, hard metal through the silky black material of Victor's briefs. Victor ached under his gaze, feeling like his pulse was beating in his confined cock.

"You're so red," Yuuri mumured, kissing at Victor's neck. "You can't have a face like that in public tomorrow."

"I want you," Victor gasped, grabbing for Yuuri's hips and pulling him up to straddle Victor. Yuuri was hard, and the heat of his cock grinding against the metal of the cage made Victor lose his breath, gasping all over again.

"Not until after," Yuuri said. He sucked gently at Victor's skin, too gently to leave marks. Victor wanted marks. He wanted everyone to know how thoroughly he belonged to this man. He almost wished the line of the cage would show through his pants, so they could all see what Yuuri had done to him. He had laid claim on what belonged to him, and it was setting Victor on fire from the inside out.

"Let me make you come. I don't need to, I just want _you_."

Yuuri lifted up onto his knees, taking away the unbearable and amazing weight of his body. He cupped his hand over the caged bulge between Victor's legs and Victor's whole body jerked like he was seizing.

"Does it hurt, when you try to get hard?" Yuuri asked, rubbing cruel fingers over Victor's briefs, the silky material dragging against his cock in between the rings of the cage.

"It aches," Victor gasped, his hands clutching at Yuuri's hips. "Please don't take it off."

"No?" Yuuri sounded surprised and delighted. "You like it that much?"

"I love the way you look right now." Victor forced his eyes open, taking in the powerful, slender form of Yuuri straddling his hips, squeezing at his caged cock. "I'm all yours."

"You are all mine," Yuuri said, rough. He scooted awkwardly up the bed until his knees were right under Victor's armpits. Victor could smell him through his underwear, clean skin with the heady scent of cock underneath. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Yuuri's underwear and pulled them down, opening his mouth to let Yuuri push inside.

Yuuri's fingers tangled in his hair and he started to thrust right away, rubbing his cock over Victor's tongue and pushing it down his throat. Victor clutched at the bunching muscles of his thighs, the delectable curve of his ass, and hung on for the ride. He made it messy, drooling all over his chin while Yuuri fucked his face. His own arousal came with more pain, the metal restriction around his cock a constant reminder that now, he was Yuuri's to use. He moaned around Yuuri's cock, his eyes sliding shut at the thought, sucking and kneading at Yuuri's ass.

"So good," Yuuri gasped, his fingers twisting in Victor's hair. "I want to come on your face."

Victor couldn't nod, but he squeezed hard at Yuuri's ass and made filthy, approving noises. Yuuri's muscles started to quiver under his hands and he dug his thumbs into the hollows of Yuuri's hips, pushing him back, trying to tell him without words just how much he wanted Yuuri's mark all over him.

Yuuri pulled back, stroking his cock frantically until he came on a strangled noise, warm and sticky all over Victors lips and cheeks. Victor stuck his tongue out, trying to lick the last drops away from the head of Yuuri's cock, watching a satisfied expression steal over Yuuri's face like a cat that had made its kill.

It wasn't hard to sleep after that, once Yuuri cleaned him up and curled up against his back, one warm hand resting on Victor's caged cock. When the pinch of the cage woke Victor the next morning, it was with a throb of want still beating through his veins. He felt like he was turned on all the time. As he showered, carefully cleaning around the cage, he felt Yuuri's eyes on him accompanied by the now-familiar pinch of the metal rings around his shaft. As he pulled on his suit and his soft leather gloves, every stitch seemed to caress his oversensitive skin. As he walked through the hallways, he felt like surely everyone could tell what he was wearing.

He made the mistake of trying to distract himself by playing to the crowd, winking at reporters and waving as they cheered his name. He realized his mistake as soon as Yuuri's fingers closed around his tie, yanking it tight around his throat and pulling him over the boards. His skin prickled with goosebumps from the back of his neck down to his toes. Yuuri's breath was hot on his ear, his lips soft, and when he skated out onto the ice he left Victor blushing and aching in his wake.

Victor didn't think anything could pull him out of the state of heady permanent arousal. Yuuri crashed into his arms after his short program, giddy and riding the certainty of a high score. Victor forgot himself at the kiss & cry, pressing his lips to Yuuri's skate boot and watching a fond, indulgent look creep over Yuuri's face.

It only took one phone call from Japan to send it all crashing down. Makkachin, an emergency, and Yuuri's strident insistence that he had to go back to Hasetsu had him packing frantically before his mind could catch up with him.

He hadn't felt fear - real fear, the kind of fear that made his skin go clammy and his heart flutter like it was skipping beats in his chest - since he was a teenager. He felt it now, like a stranglehold around him. It made him cling to Yuuri too tight as he was saying goodbye, made his hands shake as he paid the cab driver to take him to the airport. The only thing he could think of, over and over again, was Makkachin. There had been only one other constant in Victor's life since he'd started taking the world by storm, and he'd already driven Yakov away. If he lost Makkachin - if he couldn't even be there when it happened - he didn't know if he would survive it. Not even with Yuuri.

Victor had forgotten all about the cage, realizing only as he got to the airport that he would have to give security a very embarrassing explanation for why he couldn't walk through the metal detectors. Thankfully, this was Russia, and a little cash greasing a palm was enough to bypass further awkward headlines about what Victor Nikiforov kept in his pants. He thought briefly of the key to his cage, still in Yuuri's hand, getting farther away with each passing minute as the plane taxied to takeoff. 

Even that thought didn't distract him from his persistent worry over Makkachin, nerves making him jittery enough to bounce his leg for most of the flight, earning dirty looks from his seatmates when he couldn't manage to keep still. Sprinting for the exit to the airport reminded him of the extra weight between his legs, but it wasn't until he returned to Yu-topia and Makkachin was there, safe and out of danger, that he thought about the predicament he'd put himself in.

Victor couldn't get the cage off without the key. The key was in Moscow, with Yuuri, and wouldn't be coming back to Japan until day after tomorrow.

He stayed up late enough that he could call Yuuri after practice, quizzing him on how he'd done and reminding him to stick to his diet plan, because Yuuri had a bad habit of eating anything he could get ahold of when he was stressed. Yuuri made a face at him over the video chat.

"I only had one of those chocolate-covered fruit marshmallow things," Yuuri said, more petulant than Victor had ever heard him.

"Zefir," Victor said. "They aren't on your plan."

"Just one! One isn't going to hurt my skating tomorrow, Victor."

Victor tsked. "You leave me like this and then you sneak sweets during competition. Who taught you to be so disobedient toward your coach?"

"I wonder who," Yuuri said, raising his eyebrows. Then the first part of what Victor had said seemed to sink in, and his face flushed slowly scarlet. He hunched over, burying his face in his hands, red to the tips of his ears.

"Yuuri, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it." Victor rose up on his knees, shifting back against the pillows so he was spread out on camera. He was only wearing his underwear, just like Yuuri was only wearing his boxers. "It's all I can feel. I'll have to make excuses for why I can't bathe in the onsen."

"Victor!" Yuuri parted his fingers, staring at Victor through the camera. "Don't you dare. That's not for anyone else to see."

"Of course not, but don't you want to see what you've done to me?" Victor slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs, slipping them down the bones of his hips. Yuuri was starting to uncurl, and Victor gave him an encouraging smile. He wanted Yuuri to know he wasn't upset; besides the awkwardness at the airport, he'd kind of come to like it.

"Are you in my room?" Yuuri asked, finally pulling his hands away from his face.

"The sheets smell like you." Victor pulled his underwear down further, exposing the first hint of metal for the cage. Yuuri took a long breath.

"Take them off. I want to see."

Victor didn't waste time teasing. He bent his knees up to his chest, stomach muscles flexing, giving Yuuri a beautiful view of his ass as he pulled his underwear down his thighs and off. He dropped them and spread his thighs, settling back down against the bed, looking down at Yuuri's face on the laptop screen.

The cage had gotten more uncomfortable the longer Victor left it on. His balls were the worst, tender and full-feeling. Through the microphone, Victor heard a harsh breath, and looked up to see Yuuri leaning far too close to the screen.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, a note of fascination in his voice that made Victor's cock try and fill. Victor hissed through his teeth, toes curling against the blankets.

"It aches. I feel like I need to come more than anything." Victor slid his hand down his body and palmed his balls, heavy in his hand and so sensitive his knees tried to twich closed protectively.

"You can't though, can you?" It was more evident now, how much Yuuri liked seeing him like this. Victor watched his face change, his lips parting and his eyes fixed on the screen of his laptop. "You look like you're trying to get hard, too."

"Yuuri, you're torturing me," Victor whimpered, letting his fingers tease down lower, pressing against his perineum. It was like an electric shock, and the noise he let out this time wasn't for Yuuri's benefit - it was real. His balls felt hot, and when he looked down they were red and swollen.

"I won't even be back for another day and a half," Yuuri said. 

True need crashed into Victor suddenly, sweat breaking out over his skin. He'd been able to ignore this, his mind on other things, worrying for Makkachin and then for Yuuri. Now, with Yuuri's eyes on him and that cool, practical tone he took when Victor was being too melodramatic, Victor felt like he was on fire.

"You have to let me do something," he gasped. His cock strained against the metal of the cage, his orgasm hovering just out of reach, on the edge in seconds. He'd been hovering in and out of arousal for days, now.

Yuuri watched him, rapt, his eyes like a brand on Victor's skin. Then he licked his lips. "There should be a shoebox in the bottom of my closet. In the back."

Victor stumbled a little when he got to his feet, his full, aching balls sending tinges of pain and jolts of pleasure through him with every motion. The shoebox was easy to find and retrieve, thankfully. Victor settled back on the bed and opened it, his pulse beating faster when he saw what was inside.

"Yuuri, you had this in your room the whole time and we've never used any of it?" Victor pouted up at him, poking at the contents of the box. There was a smallish plug, a couple dildos, and a curved, white wand with a set of buttons that made Victor's throat go dry. He pulled it out of the box, holding it up for Yuuri to see. "Is this what you wanted me to get?"

"I think it'll make you feel better," Yuuri said. He had moved back on the bed while Victor was gone, naked now, his cock beautifully hard against his stomach. Victor ached in envy.

"I need to _come_ ," he said, feeling a little bratty.

"You will when I get home. For now, you can take the edge off." Yuuri's fingers teased up and down his shaft, his thumb pulling at the foreskin at the head of his cock. Victor's mouth watered. He wanted to suck Yuuri again, like he had in the hotel room, but he couldn't. Yuuri was still in Russia, with a free skate to perform tomorrow, and the best Victor would get was making do with Yuuri's toy box.

There was lube at the bottom, half-empty. Victor coated his fingers with it and rubbed just beneath his balls, dizzy with how good it felt.

"Put them inside," Yuuri said, and Victor did. He hadn't fingered himself since Yuuri put the cage on, and it took work to get more than one inside. The angle was awkward on his wrist, but Yuuri stared with his hand moving lazily over his dick, and Victor did his best to give him a show. He spread his fingers apart, prying himself open and basking in the hungry sound that filtered through the laptop speakers.

Victor took his time, even when it hurt, even when it made him bite his lip until it nearly bled. It was worth, watching Yuuri stroke himself, confidence settling in the line of his shoulders. Victor wondered if this would help, if having Victor under his control would give him the boost he needed to bring Victor another medal. Memories of the silver from Beijing dragging over his spine while Yuuri fucked him lingered in the back of his mind as he stuffed himself full of his own fingers and moaned.

"Switch to the toy," Yuuri said, his own hand still moving at an excruciatingly slow pace. Victor had never been good with self-denial, but Yuuri had it down to an art form.

He lubed up the prostate massager, his hands shaking a little in anticipation. It slipped in easily, Victor having spent far more time than necessary fingering himself for something this narrow. He gasped aloud as he rotated it, the bulbous tip snugging up against his prostate from the inside. Already, the muscles in his legs began to tremor. It was just on the knife's edge of too much, deep stimulation after days of frustrated arousal.

"Aren't you going to turn it on?" Yuuri asked, anticipation making him breathless. Victor watched Yuuri's hand travel slowly from the base of his dick to the head, thumb rubbing over the slick tip before it moved back down, a hypnotizing motion that made Victor swallow around the dry weight of his tongue in his mouth.

Flicking the switch on the massager sent a wave of vibration rippling through him. The toe-curling pleasure wrenched a noise from his mouth that was too loud and obscene for Victor to be making in Yu-topia, where the walls were paper thin and Yuuri's parents could hear him. Frantically, he groped for one of Yuuri's pillows and stuffed the corner in his mouth.

His knees clamped together, his body curling in on itself, muffled, overwhelmed noises escaping through the damp cloth in his mouth. A drop of pearly fluid welled at the tip of his caged cock, dripping from in in a long, sticky string that smeared over the sheets.

"Victor," Yuuri whispered, barely loud enough for Victor to hear over the sound of his own heartbeat. Victor had to try more than once to open his eyes, Yuuri's face swimming into focus through a haze of want so strong he thought he might fly out of his skin.

Yuuri was staring at the cage between his legs, at Victor's swollen cock straining against the metal. The vibrations from the massager felt like they were pulsing through his nerves. Victor had been riding the edge of pleasure and pain for days, but this - this was more intense than anything he'd ever felt. It was like a shot directly to the brain. He tried his best to uncurl, spread his legs again so Yuuri could see, but the vibrations were so much.

"Your face is so red," Yuuri said, his voice getting rougher. "Look at how wet you are, Victor. You're dripping."

Victor groaned, looking down at his cock. It twitched in its cage with the beat of his pulse. It was like being dragged to the edge of orgasm and held there, strings of precome dripping from the head of his caged dick. It was more than he'd ever seen come out of himself before. Compelled by fascination, he twisted his wrist to press harder, squeezing more fluid from the tip of his cock.

"I love the way your face looks right now," Yuuri said. The sound of skin on skin got faster through the video connection, but Victor could barely keep his eyes open with them rolling back into his head every time the massager pulsed. "When I get back to Japan, I think I might leave your cage on so I can fuck you in it."

Victor's whole body trembled. If he could get hard, he would come in an instant. Victor fumbled his free hand down to cup himself in the cage, fingers pressed lightly against the slick head of his cock, and felt a desperate scream tear out of his chest. He _needed_ , he needed Yuuri _now_ , and he _couldn't have it_.

"Victor," Yuuri moaned, his accent thickening and his breath hitching like it did when he was close. Victor wanted to make Yuuri come almost as much as he wanted to come, so he rocked back against the massager and let it take him apart, his ears ringing, feeling like he would shake himself to pieces around the toy. The pillowcase was soaked with saliva and Victor spat it out, too breathless to scream now.

"Yuuri please," he gasped, not even knowing what he was begging for. 

"Just hold on," Yuuri moaned, "let me come and I'll let you stop."

" _Yuuri_ ," Victor said again, a choked whine. It was torture, all of this buildup with no release. Yuuri was so cruel - and he loved it.

"Ah, Victor!" Yuuri cried out, louder than he probably meant to in the dubious privacy of a hotel room. Victor cursed and pried his eyes open just in time to see Yuuri spilling all over his chest and hand, and bit his tongue to keep from sobbing aloud.

He turned the massager off and pulled it out slowly, his body twitching and clenching around the toy, still high on arousal. Relief from the edge of desperation hadn't come, but he ached less, enough of the fullness and buildup from being aroused without coming pushed out of him. There was a wet spot on Yuuri's bed, staining the sheets. Victor stared at it, breathing hard, before flicking his gaze up at Yuuri through the camera.

"Is it still okay?" Yuuri asked, and Victor choked on a laugh.

"Come home on the soonest flight you can manage," he said, his voice trembling in his mouth. "I need you."

Yuuri was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable.

"I need you too," he finally said, quiet, and Victor knew he wasn't just talking about this.

"I know you'll be amazing," Victor said. "You always are."

Victor watched Yuuri skate the next day with his heart in his mouth, his hands spasming on his thighs from the very first popped jump to every mistake thereafter. A gnawing sense of guilt curled through his guts. Yuuri hadn't skated like this since last season, when he still felt like he was struggling alone. Victor knew that Yuuri had a hard time opening up to the people around him, but he'd hoped that he would trust Victor enough to open up to Yakov.

Seeing Yuuri hug Yakov in the kiss & cry didn't make it better. Victor had told him that if he needed support, he should hug Yakov - which meant that Yuuri needed, and Victor wasn't there for him. Regret settled heavily in his stomach, and he spent the remainder of the day pacing. Even knowing that Yuuri had made it into the Final didn't assuage his worry - he knew Yuuri wouldn't be satisfied with making it in by the skin of his teeth. He should have been there.

He fell asleep in the common room and woke up with a soft blanket tucked around his shoulders. It smelled faintly of cigarettes, and Victor clutched it closer, smiling to himself. Toshiya was bustling around the common room, and though they still didn't share a common language, he caught Victor's eye and smiled, giving him a cheerful "Ohayo!" which Victor mumbled softly in return.

The Katsukis seemed to have sensed his nerves. Hiroko appeared like magic with strong tea and a bowl of rice with natto and an egg. Victor smiled up at her, noticing that the egg was fried - Victor still couldn't bring himself to eat raw eggs, and while it made Hiroko shake her head, she still cooked Victor's breakfast egg every morning. When her hand fell to his shoulder, Victor reached up and caught it, squeezing.

"Arigatou," he said, stumbling only a little over the pronunciaiton. Hiroko flapped her hands at him, like she was waving off the thanks.

Yuuko arrived to drive him to the airport some hours later. Victor felt like he would shake out of his skin, bouncing his knee again as they drove.

"Yuuri is fine," Yuuko said, mistaking his anticipation for nerves. "You two are kind of ridiculous, you know? It's only been two days."

Victor turned pink - Yuuko probably thought it was embarrassment, but Victor's body was busy reminding him that it had been _four_ days since he'd been able to get hard, his cock swelling again in its cage. He fidgeted in the passenger seat, leaning his head against the window and trying to breathe through it.

"He needed me and I wasn't there," he said, trying to take his mind off his dick.

Yuuko looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her mouth curving up in a small smile that looked fond. "I'm glad Yuuri found someone who cares about him so much," she said. "You'll take care of him, won't you?"

"Of course I will," Victor said immediately. "Of course."

Anyone else might have pressed, might have asked about his intentions or grilled him for what he was really doing with Yuuri, like Minako had tried to subtly hint around for the entire time Victor had been at Yu-topia alone. Yuuko, though, only smiled wider, looking immensely pleased.

"Yuuri has been lonely for a long time, I think," she said. "He never wants to burden anyone, and so he keeps fighting alone, even when we're all here willing to give him a hand. It's good that he lets you."

Victor thought Yuuko was giving him too much credit. Yuuri had spent the night before his free skate tending to what _Victor_ needed, when the whole time he must have been so nervous he was about to explode. He still hid things from Victor, holding his emotions close to his chest.

Which was why, when they finally saw each other again, when Yuuri ran into his arms and they could hold each other again at last, Victor did what he'd been telling himself he wouldn't do for the entire summer and all of the season so far - he told Yuuri that he never wanted to let go. Maybe not in so many words, but when Yuuri's arms tightened around him, he knew his meaning had been clear. 

They rode back to Hasetsu in the backseat, Makkachin hanging her head out the passenger window, their hands laced together out of sight of the rearview mirror. The gentle touch of Yuuri's palm against his was like a brand burning into his skin. He resisted the urge to tell Yuuko to drive faster, shifting in his seat under Yuuri's knowing gaze.

"I'm going to go take a nap," Yuuri said, once he'd said hello to his family, endured Mari's ruffling of his hair and gruff congratulations, and Minako's tacky banner (with glitter and what Victor presumed was a congratulations, though he still couldn't read Japanese). He looked tired, and although Victor thought he might explode from pent-up arousal, Victor almost didn't follow him, except that Yuuri caught Victor's wrist in his hand and tugged, leading him out of the room. Victor stumbled in his wake, surprise making him slow-footed.

"Yuuri," he teased. "Holding hands in public?"

"I haven't been able to think about anything but how you looked last night," Yuuri whispered fiercely, practically dragging him up the stairs. Victor felt the pinch of his cock in its cage accompanied by a thrill of anticipation that was like adrenaline at a competition.

They couldn't keep their hands off each other as they stumbled into Yuuri's room, pulling at each other's clothes and swearing when they tangled inconveniently around their limbs. Yuuri stopped once they were naked, stepping back from Victor and leaving him bereft as he let his eyes linger down Victor's body, his gaze arrested by the cage.

Victor's breath hissed through his teeth when Yuuri reached out to touch, his hand warm over the cage. Yuuri's touch was like a bolt of lightning through him, bringing the omnipresent, simmering arousal back to the front of his mind.

"You're blushing already," Yuuri said, and kissed him.

Victor grabbed for him, pulling Yuuri against him and winding his arms around Yuuri's shoulders. He pulled them to the bed, unable to stop kissing Yuuri for more than a breath at a time, clumsy lips brushing against each other as they tumbled onto the sheets. He had missed this, the skin-to-skin contact and lying down together on the bed, almost as much as he'd missed being able to get hard.

Almost.

"Are you going to take it off?" Victor ground up against Yuuri, pressing the cage against his skin. He didn't have him in it to tease, or to seduce. He needed Yuuri against him - inside him - as fast as possible.

"Not yet," Yuuri said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny gold key on a chain, then slipped it over his head. It didn't occur to Victor to grab the key and unlock himself. When Yuuri pressed him down against the bed, parting Victor's thighs and moving between them, Victor went with his direction like a wave moving with the ocean's wind. Yuuri was, in this as in everything, a force of nature, whether he realized it or not.

Victor's skin was already tingling with goosebumps even before Yuuri started to touch him, sliding his hands slowly over Victor's sides, his thighs, up under his knees to spread his legs wider. He let his head fall back against the bed, let his eyes slide closed. Yuuri's tongue was wet against his chest, his lips hot as a furnace around his nipples, already peaked and sensitive from the confusing signals firing through his body from his cock.

Yuuri moved so slowly Victor thought he might burn up before he had the chance to come, an exquisite death at the hands of this impossible, amazing man that Victor had given his everything to, from his will to his body, down to the fibers of his heart. His lips were chapped rough from the dry air of the plane, his tongue a perfect, slick counterpoint to their scratchy progress down his stomach to his hips. Yuuri spent time there, using his teeth on Victor's inner thighs, biting hard enough to send jolts of stinging sensation jolting through Victor's spine.

"Are you going to let me come?" Victor asked, plaintative, raising his head and cracking his eyes open. It had just occurred to him that Yuuri might not, and he didn't think he would survive if that was the case.

The look on Yuuri's face was hungry, nearly dangerous. Victor's heart felt like it stopped beating for the span of breaths that Victor's question hung between them.

"You'd come the second I took this off, wouldn't you?" Yuuri asked, brushing the backs of his knuckles so lightly over Victor's balls that it should have just been ticklish, but made him moan desperately against the back of his hand.

"Four _days_ , Yuuri," Victor said, whining a little because he knew Yuuri had a hard time resisting him when he was pathetic.

"I told you I wanted to fuck you in it," Yuuri said, his breath hot over Victor's cock. The cage pinched around him as he strained toward Yuuri's tongue.

"Will you let me come after?"

"You're being impatient," Yuuri said. "This was about self-control, remember?"

Victor dropped his hand away from his face and stared, frustration fizzling under his skin like a geyser waiting to erupt. Yuuri's lips were pulled into a tiny, infuriating smirk, the kind he'd seen Yuuri use to wind Yura up when Yura was being a brat. Petulance surged within him and he felt his lips pull down in a pout.

"I wouldn't come right away," he said. It was like a challenge. Yuuri thought he didn't have self-control? Victor had won five gold medals _in a row_ , he would show Yuuri self-control.

"Are you sure about that?" Yuuri asked, kissing the tip of his cock where it pressed against the unforgiving metal of the cage, and suddenly Victor wasn't. He felt everywhere, unable to focus on anything but Yuuri's touch, his sudden bout of defiance crumbling away as surely as sand.

"Please," Victor whispered, a hot feeling building behind his eyes. "I'm yours, Yuuri, you can do whatever you want with me, just - please."

Yuuri turned his face into Victor's thigh and groaned, biting at the tender skin again. He mumbled something Victor didn't understand entirely, though he caught the word _beautiful_ and huffed out a laugh. His face was burning up with a blush, his hair disheveled, a fine layer of sweat coating his skin.

"I'll let you come," Yuuri said. "Eventually."

That was enough. Victor let out a soft moan and relaxed against the pillows again.

"Don't sound so relieved. You'll still have to wait until I'm ready."

The sound of the lube opening made the warning fly out of his mind as quickly as it had entered. Yuuri's fingers breached him next, slick and clever, twisting and pressing immediately against his prostate.

Like he had before, Victor curled in on himself. This time, he had something to grab, clutching at Yuuri's shoulders and watching as Yuuri worked him from the inside, milking precome from his cock with little circles of his fingers. Victor shook, his fingers trembling on Yuuri's shoulders and his breath shuddering into his lungs. Yuuri raised himself up on his elbows enough to kiss, and Victor sucked hungrily at his lip, begging with the enticing curl of his tongue. Yuuri ignored his mute plea, stretching his fingers inside and pulling away from Victor's mouth to lower himself to the bed.

Victor nearly shrieked at the first touch of Yuuri's tongue to the swollen, overfull skin of his balls. Yuuri glanced up at him, and admonishment and a look of amusement in one, and Victor clapped his hand over his mouth again. He squeezed his eyes shut against the moisture building in them, his stomach muscles trembling. Fluid dripped liberally from his cock, caught on the swipe of Yuuri's tongue before Yuuri closed his wet mouth over the end of the cage and sucked.

"Yuuri!" It was muffled by the press of Victor's palm over his own lips, but loud nonetheless. His eyes rolled back, moisture threatening at the corners of his eyes with how good it felt and how much it hurt at the same time, his release still pent-up and out of reach.

He was lost in the sensations of his own body when Yuuri finally pulled away. There was the pop of a cap, the grip of Yuuri's fingers on his knees, and then Yuuri was pushing him back against the bed again, pushing his knees up to his shoulders, and pushing _in_.

Victor pressed both hands over his face, his body twisting underneath Yuuri's weight. Yuuri sank into him with inexorable force, stretching him wide open. The head of his cock punched against Victor's prostate as he bottomed out. One of Victor's legs kicked out against the air without his permission, a noise like a howl rising from his throat.

"Tell me if it's too much," Yuuri said, and started to fuck him.

It was too much from the first thrust, but Victor would never admit it for fear that Yuuri would stop. Every thrust felt like it was ripping his nerves apart and he loved it, the tears that had threatened before spilling down his cheeks. He felt like Yuuri would milk him dry, leave him nothing left to come with. Bent in half like this, the fluid from his cock dribbled onto his stomach, a steady, sticky stream punctuated by the erratic flutter of Victor's breath.

"You're squeezing me so tight." Yuuri was panting, and Victor could feel those dark eyes on him like he always could. He wanted to look but couldn't bring himself to control his limbs long enough to move. Yuuri's pace was relentless and driving, making Victor's cage bounce against his stomach, the ring tugging on his balls.

"Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri," Victor chanted - sobbed - as he writhed underneath, feeling like every time Yuuri drove into him he was being electrocuted with so much pleasure he'd drown in it.

"Victor," Yuuri answered, a hitching gasp that Victor knew so well he could cry. Did cry. Was crying, because Yuuri had fucked him into a whimpering, pathetic mess. Yuuri gasped at the sound of Victor's voice breaking and the bruising grip of his fingers spasmed around Victor's thighs. Victor was so sensitive he could feel Yuuri's cock pulsing inside him, filling him up.

Victor grabbed for Yuuri's arms, shuddering, his face a mess of tears, hair sticking to his forehead. Yuuri was staring at him like he'd had a holy revelation, brushed his thumb wonderingly over the arch of Victor's cheekbone.

"Please," Victor managed. "Please."

Yuuri pulled the little gold key over his head and fitted it into the padlock. The snick of metal opening made Victor twist his hands in the sheets, face screwing up as he braced himself. Delicately, Yuuri drew the part of the cage that covered his shaft away.

Victor went lightheaded with how fast the blood rushed to his cock, filling it red and angry, hard against his stomach for the first time in days. Yuuri brushed the backs of his knuckles against the underside and Victor's body went rigid. He curled his fingers around the shaft and slowly pulled down the foreskin to expose the head. Victor came without another touch, thick spurts of come shooting across his chest and stomach. His vision blurred, more tears rushing down his cheeks, and he was fairly sure he'd screamed from the way Yuuri's hand immediately descended over his mouth.

He came until he felt like his body was being squeezed out like a washcloth. All thought fuzzed out into static, all feeling transforming into a pervasive tingle like his whole body had fallen asleep. He felt it in his _teeth_ , buzzing through his gums, trickling down his throat like water in the desert.

When he finally came back to himself, the first thing he saw when he blinked the blur of tears from his eyes was Yuuri's dark eyes, concern drawing his eyebrows tight. Victor smiled dazedly at him, trying to make his arms cooperate so he could pull Yuuri down for a kiss. His throat felt sore, and he didn't think he was going to be able to manage words for a while.

"Are you okay?" Yuuri asked, and Victor could only nod with a goofy, sated grin on his lips. "Are you sure?"

"Mmmm," Victor hummed. He managed to lift his hand and forearm off the bed and pawed weakly at Yuuri's thigh, the closest piece of Yuuri within touching distance. Yuuri only looked more concerned, so Victor pursed his lips and closed his eyes, tipping his face up.

Yuuri's lips were soft. The kiss was chaste, a peck that lasted barely a breath before he pulled away. Victor tried to rearrange his face into a pout but couldn't make himself stop smiling.

"So that was good?" Yuuri asked. The confidence that came over them when they were in bed, or when Yuuri was on the ice, was already sliding away. Victor's heart ached. This impossible, excruciating, unbelievable man.

"Amazing," he sighed, and decided he would say it at least once a day for the rest of their lives, just to make sure that Yuuri always knew.

"I'm sorry that I didn't think about it before you left," Yuuri said. The worry was bleeding out of his voice in the face of Victor's boneless assurances. Victor couldn't do more than blink adoringly at him.

"Yuuri," he said, his tongue heavy in his mouth, "I would wear it as long as you wanted. I'm all yours."

Yuuri swooped down for another kiss, longer this time. They kissed for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, Victor's sense of time skewed by the way his body still felt like it was drifting. It didn't matter. Yuuri was here, and Victor was Yuuri's, and Yuuri had him for as long as he wanted, because Victor was never letting go.


End file.
